This is a light-hearted romp (if you consider physics
'light-hearted') through the life of Richard Feynman,
Nobel-winning physicist and amateur bongo player. Feynman
is one of those rare characters who can shoot the breeze
with Einstein in the morning and play in a samba band in
the evening and not be able to decide which gave him more
pleasure. Eternally curious, Feynman was always
exploring new disciplines and mastering each. In addition
to his work in particle physics and mathematics he
tackles art (a friend teaches him to draw; he takes a
couple of classes; does some work that gets sold; has a
one-man exhibit at a major art gallery; then moves on to
other interests), learns Spanish before a trip to South
America (only to end up in Brazil having to learn Portugese, then getting an invitation to Japan for which
he studies Japanese to the point of being somewhat
conversant), learns to play the drums (starts by banging
on garbage cans at Los Alamos while working on the atomic
bomb during WWII; re-visits the pass-time years later
after meeting up with a Nigerian street musician; gets
discovered by a choreographer in San Francisco and plays
for her avant-garde ballet troop which goes on to win
international acclaim), takes up locksmithing (fiddling
around in high school; breaks into top secret materials
at Los Alamos just to prove it can be done) etc.
If you find the following amusing, you'll love the
book (and see also The Dilbert Principle). If
it's over your head you might still like the book (but
see also The Dilbert Principle - you might be
management material).
One day at Princeton I was sitting in the lounge and
overheard some mathematicians talking about the series
for e to the x power which is 1 + x + x²/2! +
x³/3!. Each term you get by multiplying the
preceding term by x and dividing by the next number. For
example, to get the next term after x³/3! You
multiply that term by x and divide by 4. It's very
simple.
When I was a kid I was excited by series, and had
played with this thing. I had computed e using that
series, and had seen how quickly the new terms became
very small.
I mumbled something about how it was easy to calculate
e to any power using that series (you just substitute the
power for x).
"Oh yeah?" they said. "Well, the what's
e to the 3.3?" said some joker - I think it was Tukey.
I say, "That's easy. It's 27.11."
Tukey knows it isn't so easy to compute all that in
your head. "Hey! How'd you do that?"
Another guy says, "You know Feynman, he's just
faking it. It's not really right."
They go to get a table, and while they're doing that,
I put on a few more figures: "27.1126," I say.
They find it in the table. "It's right! But how'd
you do it!"
"I just summed the series."
"Nobody can sum the series that fast. You must
just happen to know that one. How about e³?"
"Look," I say. "It's hard work! Only
one a day!"
"Hah! It's a fake!" they say, happily.
"All right," I say, "It's 20.085."
They look in the book as I put a few more figures on.
They're all excited now, because I got another one right.
Here are these great mathematicians of the day,
puzzled at how I can compute e to any power! One of them
says, "He just can't be
substituting and summing - it's too hard. There's some
trick. You couldn't do just any old number like e to the
1.4."
I say, "It's hard work, but for you, OK. It's
4.05."
As they're looking it up, I put on a few more digits
and say, "And that's the last one for the day!"
and walk out.
What happened was this: I happened to know three
numbers - the logarithm of 10 to the base e (needed to
convert numbers from base 10 to base e), which is 2.3026
(so I knew that e to the 2.3 is very close to 10), and
because of radioactivity (mean-life and half-life), I
knew the log of 2 to the base 3, which is .69315 (so I
also knew that e to the .7 is nearly equal to 2). I also
knew e (to the 1), which is 2.71828.
The first number they gave me was e to the 3.3, which
is e to the 2.3 (10) times e, or 27.18. While they were
sweating about how I was doing it, I was correcting for
the extra .0026 - 2.3026 is a little high.
I knew I couldn't do another one; that was sheer luck.
But then the guy said e to the 3: that's e to the 2.3
times e to the .7, or ten times two. So I knew it was
20.something, and while they were worrying how I did it,
I adjusted for the .693.
Now I was sure I couldn't do another one,
because the last one was again by sheer luck. But the guy
said e to the 1.4 which is e to the .7 times itself. So
all I had to do is fix up 4 a little bit!
They never did figure out how I did it.
("Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman,"
page 173-4)